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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28477443">A prelude to war</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magykwolf/pseuds/Magykwolf'>Magykwolf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Animagus, Betrayal, Character Study, Elemental Magic, First War with Voldemort, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Kinda, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Pre-First War with Voldemort, Pre-War, Self-Acceptance, These are teenagers who fought and survived a war</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:56:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,082</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28477443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magykwolf/pseuds/Magykwolf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As graduation nears, our beloved characters must come to grips with what awaits them in a world where all out war is just a hairsbreadth away.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A prelude to war</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>These are in no particular order, just the order they came to me in.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Most people assumed Lily's elemental affinity to be fire. Perhaps it was because of her hair, she had once heard it described as 'kissed-by-fire'. Perhaps it was because of her temper.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I do not have a temper Meadows.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lily. Dearest. Love of my life. The sun which brightens my days. You're a ginger, all gingers have a temper. And half the second years still quake in their shoes from the bollocking you gave that poor boy last month.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Poor boy my well-shaped behind Dorcas, he was far too young to be trying to sneak in Firewhiskey.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever the reason, most assumed that she had a fire affinity. And admittedly she did little to discourage that line of thought (they lived in dark times and she would take any advantage she could get). In reality her magic found itself drawn to wind. At first she had thought it an ill fit but as she learnt more she understood why. Most often the wind was nothing more than a soft whisper through your hair, a cool caress on a hot day. Well in some parts of the world at least, Lily did have the misfortune of living in England and attending school in Scotland. So just as she knew it could be gentle and soothing, she knew also that it could be cold and biting, cutting to the bone and leaving you feeling vulnerable to elements, in the most extreme cases winds exerted enough force to shake even the sturdiest of foundations.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And so it was that as the news got darker by the day, and as she neared the time when she would leave the fragile safety of Hogwarts, Lily Evans buried herself in learning and practicing the highest levels of wind related magic she could. She wouldn't be safe outside these walls, her drive to excel and her sharp mind had already caught the attention of some of the more outspoken bigots and she knew she would be a target in time, to be made an example of. They would come for but by all the gods she would not go quietly, she was Lily Evans and she would not cower, she would not hide. She would rage with all the fierceness and strength of the most brutal of storms and may Magic have mercy on those who would harm her and hers for she would not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When people looked at Sirius Black they saw a number of things. They saw an attention-whore (something of a regular whore as well), they saw a disgraced member of a Dark family, a family that was neutral at best (Grandfather really was a stubborn old bastard) and which reveled in the worst of humanity at its worst.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So what you're saying is that your cousin freely lusts after a genocidal maniac, is following in said maniac’s footsteps, and while they praise her for that they nearly disowned you for being sorted into Gryffindor</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That's about the shape of it, yes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Merlin your family's a mess.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lily my dear you truly have a gift for understatement.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They saw a trouble-maker that passed along without a care in the world. And while they would certainly be right in some points they all forgot one thing. Regardless of where he stood with his family he was a Black, and that meant something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It certainly didn't mean he was Dark or evil, although he had a broad knowledge of spells and magic most considered dark. What it did mean was that he was dangerous, that he was smart and cunning and ruthless when he wished to be. It also meant he had an interesting relationship with his emotions. The Blacks were known for their intermarrying that ranked just under the infamous Gaunts' and the effects that it had on both their magic and minds. Most of his family could be described as.... mercurial at best, Sirius himself was well aware that he had issues controlling his emotions. However where most assumed he had a fire affinity because of his temper or even a wind affinity because of his 'flightiness', like almost every Black in history Sirius' magic resounded with the element of water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Water always got its way in the end. It would chip away slowly but steadily until it carved its own paths into even the most formidable of landmasses. The sea was well known for shifting at any moment, one minute calm and picturesque, the next rising and falling with force enough to shake the ground, whirling into peaks and troughs that would devour any unwise or unlucky enough to be caught. And Sirius knew well what path he wished to carve. Publicly he had turned his back on his family, but in truth he was very much determined to save it. The family itself, not necessarily the members that currently made it, the only ones he would make a true attempt to save would be Regulus, Andy and Cissa (Sirius was of the opinion that his Grandfather could more than handle himself). He knew well that Narcissa certainly seemed to be lost to old Voldie but they had grown up together. Narcissa had always been the quiet one, the dutiful one, quite similar to Reggie really. She hadn't sought out Malfoy's attentions and she was far to smart to ever willingly be subservient to anyone as idiotic as a Dark Lord. But her parents had demanded her marriage to Lucius and so she had done it, regardless of her own feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, Sirius knew he needed to be stronger. He certainly was a powerful wizard already, but if he wished to save and reshape his family he would have to go above and beyond. And so while all the world saw the lackadaisical prankster, he buried himself in ancient tomes searching for every bit of magic, dark or light, forgotten or repressed. He was a Black and that meant something. He would carve his path and devour any that stood in his way. And when the Death Eaters and their precious Dark Lord came for him, they would realise why the sea was so feared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>James Potter was something of an anomaly and he knew it. Heir and only son to a prestigious house he would freely admit that he had grown up spoiled and that it had taken him time to gain a level-head. That being said, his parents had always taught him two things above all else. Duty and responsibility. As the Heir to the Potter estate he would one day serve on the Wizengamot as Lord Potter. He had a duty to look after those under his care, the towns and families that paid them their taxes and he had a responsibility to use his power to leave the Wizarding World better than when he had entered it. While a spoiled heir would usually not care for such things, James had long ago taken those lessons to heart and from a young age he would regularly leave the grounds of the Potter Manse in his free time (shadowed by a house-elf of course) to speak to and interact with those who lived on Potter lands.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Father?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes James?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>May I go down to the village for an hour or two each day?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And what exactly would you do there young man?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well you said that one day I would have to make sure they were safe and happy. Don't I need to actually know them and the town to do that?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>(Fleamont Potter happily gave permission and would later go blubbering to his rather confused wife about how proud he was of their little boy).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So perhaps it was no surprise that fire was the element that called to him the most. To friends, family and even mere acquaintances James undeniably had a warmth to him, a feeling of comfort much like a crackling fireplace on a winter’s night. However when incensed he was comparable to an inferno, burning and devouring anything that stood between him and his target.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>James Potter had had duty and responsibility drilled into him from a young age, seen it as his purpose to strengthen and protect those who looked to him for leadership or aid. And so it was that he spent long evenings when the castle had gone to sleep training and honing every aspect of himself he could. Countless dummies and targets were reduced to dust and ash as the accuracy and speed of his spells grew to unnerving levels. Grooves were worn in the ground as he pushed his reflexes and endurance to their limits. He was James Potter and he would bring hellfire down on those who would harm the people he protected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remus Lupin was quiet and oft overlooked. Brushed aside as a bookworm, disregarded for his worn clothing and the tired air that surrounded him. He was also well aware of the irony of his name (of course he was, James and Sirius were two of his best friends), despite the studious and almost non-descript image he maintained, he was a wolf in name and nature both. Quite odd then, that it was earth that his core resonated with when his very being possessed such wild fierceness and hunger. But no, despite his feral instincts Remus Lupin was stable and reliable. He moved in his own time, but when he moved he was unstoppable.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Moooooonyyyyy why won’t you let me hex Rosier?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I told you already Pads, I’m taking care of it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was so long ago though.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s barely been a week Sirius. Besides when I’m done with him he won’t be leaving Pomfrey’s for quite a while, you’ll have fun dominating Slytherin in Quidditch.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>(Evan Rosier was found later that week unconscious in a pile of his own excrement and, while waking the next day, would remain mute and paranoid for near a month. He never was quite the same.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remus Lupin restrained himself. He restrained his emotions and his bloodlust. But when he deemed it necessary he had no issue letting his wolf free to do its worst. He knew exactly what he was and he found strength in being an outcast, found strength in utilising his curse for his own ends. His vengeance was never swift but it was inevitable. And now his pack was threatened. His very existence was threatened, but in truth he cared little for himself. He had made his own family and now they were in danger. Just as a wolf he would slowly hunt down each threat and tear them limb from limb. So he planned. He studied tactics and read treatises of war, he sought out tomes on healing and anatomy, learning both to heal and harm. James, Sirius and Lily would fight on the fields, let their brightness be a rallying cry for their allies. Remus was a creature of darkness, and it was from the shadows that he would fight. He was Remus Lupin and he would bring the wizarding world crumbling to its knees before he let a single bit of harm come to those he cared for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter Pettigrew knew exactly what he was. He knew he was a coward, his animagus was a rat for Merlin’s sake. But rats survived, no matter the danger, no matter the threat, they survived and thrived.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What do you want Pettigrew.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to survive. I want to be on the winning side.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh? So you want to play spy do you? Betray those mudblood lovers and blood traitors you call friends? My my, I never expected this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This isn’t a game. This is war. There aren’t any winners, only survivors.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Very well then. But I’ll be keeping a very close eye on you Pettigrew, you can be sure of that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He skulked and hid, listened and lied. Made friends out of enemies and walked the thin line between factions. It was surprisingly easy, although one side demanded that he prove his loyalty the other took his loyalty for granted. In truth he was loyal to none but himself, just as he always had been. His mother had been a bitter and broken woman but she had taught him that at least. He was Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail, the rat. Peter wasn't powerful, he had never found any affinity to any magic, but he was crafty, he was careful, he would survive, no matter what it took, even if it meant damning those he had oh so reluctantly come to love.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy New Year y'all.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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